KERNAN, JOSEPH EUGENE
Name: Joseph Eugene Kernan
Branch/Rank: UNITED STATES NAVY/O2
Unit: RECON ATTACK SQUADRON 7
Date of Birth:
Home City of Record: WASHINGTON DC
Date of Loss: 07 May 72
Country of Loss:  NORTH VIETNAM
Loss Coordinates: 195900 North  1055100 East
Status (in 1973): Returnee
Category:
Aircraft/Vehicle/Ground: RA5C
Missions:
Other Personnel in Incident: CLARENCE POLFER, returnee
Refno:
Source: Compiled by P.O.W. NETWORK from one or more of the following: raw
data from U.S. Government agency sources, correspondence with POW/MIA
families, published sources, interviews and CACCF = Combined Action
Combat Casualty File, information from Indiana's Lt. Governor's Home page.
Updated 2002.
REMARKS: 730328 RELEASED BY DRV
Synopsis: Joe Kernan, the oldest of nine children, graduated from St.
Joseph's High School in South Bend.  He was a catcher on the baseball team
at the University of Notre Dame, and graduated from there in 1968 with a
degree in Government.  He was the commencement speaker and received an
honorary doctorate from his alma mater in 1998.
Kernan entered the United States Navy in 1969 and served as a naval flight
officer aboard the U.S.S. Kitty Hawk.  In May of 1972, Kernan was shot down
by the enemy while on a reconnaissance mission over North Viet Nam.  He was
held as a prisoner of war for 11 months.  Kernan was repatriated in 1973 and
continued on active duty with the Navy until December of 1974.  For his
service, Kernan received numerous awards, including the Navy Commendation
Medal, two Purple Hearts and the Distinguished Flying Cross.
After completing his Naval service, Kernan worked for Procter and Gamble in
Cincinnati in 1975.  He then returned to South Bend, where he worked for
both the Schwarz Paper Company and the MacWilliams Corporation.  He was
South Bend's city controller from 1980 to 1984.
Joe Kernan was elected mayor of South Bend in 1987.  He served as the city's
mayor for nine years, longer than any other mayor in the city's history.
In 1996, Lt. Governor Joe Kernan and Governor Frank O'Bannon were elected to
the top two positions in Indiana government.  As lieutenant governor of
Indiana, Kernan serves as the president of the Indiana Senate, the director
of the Indiana Department of Commerce and as the commissioner of
Agriculture.
Joe and his wife, Maggie, were married in 1974.  They have a home in South
Bend, where Maggie works for 1st Source Bank.  She is a Purdue University
graduate, who is now a senior vice-president and the director of marketing
at the bank. Maggie is also active in community service, and has been
mentoring a child for five years through a South Bend Community Schools
program.
====================
Associated Press Newswires
Friday, May 3, 2002
Thirty years later, Kernan relects on POW days
By MIKE SMITH
INDIANAPOLIS (AP) - This Tuesday, Lt. Gov. Joe Kernan will do what he has
done nearly every May 7th for 29 years.
He will play some golf, eat a pizza and drink some beer.
It is a ritual of simplicities that Kernan uses to mark May 7, 1972, the day
he ejected from his Navy reconnaissance plane after it was hit during a
mission over North Vietnam. Tuesday is the 30th anniversary of that day,
which began an 11-month ordeal as a prisoner of war.
Kernan, who is widely expected to be the Democratic nominee for governor in
2004, talks casually about his ordeal from the spacious Statehouse office he
has occupied since 1997.
He recalls the sensation of sunlight flooding the cockpit after he pulled
the cord to bail out. He blacked out from the force, however, and doesn't
remember anything about the fall. When he regained consciousness, he was
lying in front of a hut, surrounded by villagers - mostly boys, women and
elderly - many of them shouting.
"I'm 5-foot-9 and have a helmet on, I'm wearing a flight suit and have a
.38-caliber revolver in my holster, and I must look like something from
Mars," Kernan said.
Stripped down to a T-shirt and undershorts, he was blindfolded and ushered
away, likely by members of a local militia, and ended up hours later - he
thinks - in the town of Thanh Hoa.
Despite the shock and blindness of those initial hours, Kernan said he was
rational enough to wonder whether he had bailed out too soon. Had the pilot
managed to regain control of the plane and fly it back to the U.S.S. Kitty
Hawk in the Gulf of Tonkin?
He got the answer within hours, still blindfolded, when he heard the voice
of the pilot say, "Jesus Christ, where in the (expletive) are we now?"
"I was very sad that he'd been shot down, but I was very glad I hadn't
jumped out of a good airplane," Kernan said, recalling the details as if
they were yesterday.
The next day, Kernan was driven to Hanoi, to a prison the American POWs
called "The Zoo." He spent the first month isolated in a 12-by-12 feet room.
He was interrogated, but not severely, being lucky in age, rank and timing
in the war.
He had graduated from Notre Dame and enlisted in the Navy only three years
prior, and was no military big shot.
U.S. bombing of North Vietnam intensified to new levels during the ensuing
months, but so did peace negotiations, and POWs were regarded more as
bargaining chips to the North Vietnamese. Kernan escaped the torture and
deprivation many of his predecessors endured.
The worst day of his 11 months and 20 days of captivity came early on, he
said, when he talked with another POW.
"He told me that our escort had lost us and that we were presumed dead,"
Kernan said. "My family thought I was dead, and if the Navy thought I was
dead, the thing that goes through your mind is that there's no reason for
these guys to keep me alive."
But Kernan said he never lost hope he would someday come home.
He ate what he was fed. For most of the first nine months, it was pumpkin
soup, twice a day. Just pieces of pumpkin boiled in water. Sometimes there
was a side dish - a piece of pork fat or fish heads or soybean cake.
"No pumpkin has passed these lips in 29 years, nor will it ever again,"
Kernan said, smiling.
In the latter months, he spent the time with a group of eight to 12 other
POWs, doing menial tasks, playing cards, and listening intently to the
Vietnamese radio broadcasts over a compound loudspeaker for four words that
gave them hope.
They were Kissinger, Le Duc Tho - Kissinger's North Vietnamese counterpart
in peace negotiations - Paris, where the talks were being held, and hoa binh
- which is "peace" in Vietnamese.
When they heard them, he said, "Your imagination runs wild as to what might
be happening."
On Feb. 12, 1973, Kernan and the others knew a peace deal was real when they
saw American C-141 aircraft flying into Hanoi. On March 27, Kernan was in
the last group of POWs picked up to go home.
When he returned to the United States, Kernan says he would often hit the
road, "driving down the highway looking for adventure," with no particular
place to go.
"I've been in three accidents in my life and all of them were within six
months of coming home," Kernan said. "I mean, I busted up a couple of cars.
I wasn't very careful."
Kernan says he remembers every May 7th "without question," but some March
27ths go by that he doesn't remember until a day or a week later.
"I think it's because if there hadn't have been a May 7th, there never would
have been a March 27th," Kernan said. "It was the day my life changed."
Kernan is busy now trying to lay a groundwork for compromise during the
upcoming special session, when lawmakers will return to the Statehouse on
Gov. Frank O'Bannon's orders to work on balancing the state's budget and
restructuring taxes.
Getting Democrats and Republicans to agree on a solution has been elusive so
far. It's a political battle that could get very ugly, and its outcome could
prove pivotal in Kernan's expected run for governor in 2004.
But his time as a prisoner of war helps him put things in perspective.
"I don't have many bad days," he said.
It's a perspective that Maggie Kernan, Joe's wife since 1974, has seen in
her husband for years.
"Because of his personality and optimistic outlook, he has been able to take
it and make something out of it that is positive," she said. "He will talk
about doing something tough and difficult and say, 'What are they going to
do, send me to jail? I've already been there."'
She said her husband often is asked about his experience, and he will
willingly talk about some of it. But she suspects there is more to the
story.
"I think there is a lot that he doesn't talk about," she said.